Pember shook his head, pressing his fingers to his temples. “Not really. They just gave me a leaflet about getting aninjunction. Aninjunction! I tried to tell them she’s unwell, but then they started asking about witnesses and all sorts.”
Blake nodded. “Will you do it? Look into the injunction, I mean.”
“What? No! She’s my mum. I can’t… I can’t lose this job, Blake. I’ll lose my income, my house… I can’t… I can’t go back, I can’t… Oh shit… N-not there… not?—”
The anger in his gut hardened, turning into a lead weight deep in his core. It was pulling him down, crushing his pelvis and trying to force him to his knees. He gripped the stall, fingers holding on to the blue plastic barrier like it was the only thing keeping him from being sucked into the plughole.
“Pember,” Blake growled. “Can I come over there?”
A low-frequency drone rattled Pember’s skull. “W-what? Yes. I mean, no. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m—” He wasn’t fine; he couldn’t breathe. “Oh God, Blake. I can’t. I can’t…” It was the only thing hecouldsay as he struggled to keep a grasp on the English language.
If Blake was calling to him, he couldn’t hear it. His hearing was muffled, face as numb as his feet as he struggled to feel the ground beneath them. His wolf whimpered, agony squeezing his chest, making it feel like his ribs were cracking.
It was the end, wasn’t it? He was dying. It felt like he was dying. He’d rather die than go back. He reached out for his wolf—the scent of its fur, the warmth of its skin—and for once it reached back.
“You’ll remember me, won’t you, Pem?”Were those his words or his sister’s? His brain was turning upside down; it must have been.
A deep rumble cut through the fog, dislodging the ball of dread in his stomach.
Blake. Blake was there, all long lines and wet skin as he pushed open the cubicle. A towel rode low on his hips, another in his hand.
“You aren’t dying,” he growled, fingers brushing over Pember’s hips as he wound the towel around him. “You aren’t losing your job, or your house, or your sanity.”
Pember shuddered, brain too fuzzy for him to be embarrassed by either of their nakedness. The vast expanse of the alpha’s body filled the space.Hisspace. Blake’s chest had freckles, marks and years-old scars. Scars.Thescar that cut vertically through the centre of his sternum from open-heart surgery.
It was too much with the two of them squashed together, and his omega wolf pressed into Blake’s. The alpha’s rumbling breaths were making him woozy, drowsy almost. It was too much, his heart—hisownheart—was hammering as the panic attack clamped around his ribs.
“I-I-I-I can’t do this. I can’t… I can’t,” he squeaked, voice cracking.
His hands pawed feebly at Blake’s chest, both he and his wolf trying to find purchase on something solid, but coming away empty. Dark fur pushed through his skin, black claws appearing in place of blunt nails. His shift. His shift was coming and he was powerless to stop it.
Then the alpha was fully standing over him, his forearm across the tiles above both their heads. His other hand gripped Pember’s waist, thumb pressing into the space below his navel. Blake pulled their bodies together with a wet slap, the showerhead bumping his temple, making water run down his face and over Pember’s shoulders.
“I can’t…” Pember whimpered again, leaning forward to press into the slippery warmth of Blake’s body.
“You can, and you are,” he whispered back. “This isn’t going to break you. Your backpack’s just a little full right now.”
Pember had no idea what ‘backpack’ Blake was referring to, only groaned through his sharpening teeth in reply. He felt boneless, like his limbs were too heavy to bear and the only things holding him upright were the alpha’s arms. Dark clouds circled his thoughts, making it difficult to see a way forward, a way out of everything.Out of life.
Blake’s scent was a whisper at first, quiet and unassuming. It tickled his nose, making his wolf chase the scent like it had in the woods. The whisper became a call, wrapping around him like a weighted blanket on a cold day. Mouth hanging open, he tried to drink in that taste of comfort. Of reassurance.
“It’s alright,” Blake murmured, fingertips smoothing through Pember’s hair. “I’ve got you.”
“Y-you don’t know me,” Pember stuttered. “You don’t… Y-you shouldn’t have to?—”
“I know enough.”
Pember’s eyes squeezed shut, and they almost rolled back as the alpha’s scent enveloped him completely. It was like a drug, like walking into that grove of apple trees in the woods. Fresh, crisp and calming. He wanted it.Neededto have it on his tongue, the tip of it swiping at the alpha’s skin and tasting the tang of the cheap shower gel and natural salt.
Blake growledlowin his belly when Pember’s mouth slid from his shoulder to his collarbones, and he began sucking at the water that gathered in the bony dip.
“Pember—” he groaned, hand leaving Pember’s waist to grip the top of the cubicle. “Pem,” he repeated, barely more than a breath.
The panic attack left pins and needles prickling Pember’s fingers, something that bled across Blake’s skin as gooseflesh covered his entire chest.
“You smell… so good,” Pember panted.
Blake’s chest rumbled in agreement. “So do you,” he said, sliding his knee between Pember’s thighs. “You need to shift. Your wolf is breaking through, and I don’t know what mine will do once it does.”
